


Possession

by stella_fidelis



Category: Dragon Age (Video Games), Dragon Age II
Genre: Blood Magic, Dark Character, F/M, Rivalry
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-02-27
Updated: 2015-02-27
Packaged: 2018-03-15 12:38:18
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,241
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3447491
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/stella_fidelis/pseuds/stella_fidelis
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Fenris belongs to you. He just doesn't know it yet</p>
            </blockquote>





	Possession

You watch your little wolf storm out of the Hawke Estate, his tail between his knees, and you can’t help but smirk. You like men who play hard to get. Hawkes, as your mother always said, love the challenge.

And Fenris certainly has provided one. It’s as if he doesn’t even realize how perfect you are for each other. Poor puppy. Good thing you’ve been “guiding him along”. You reach into your pocket to grip the phial within. Weeks later, the liquid is still warm with Fenris’ unique essence. What a wonderful tool it has been! I

ts signature lets you pinpoint your lover’s spirit in the Fade, the ethereal space where all sentient beings are connected. There, you’ve been digging around in his mind for everything he likes in a woman. You even planted a few ideas of your own to help the courtship. Meanwhile in the waking world your newfound connection lets you keep yourself in his thoughts and restrain his feistier impulses. Although his earlier urge to strangle you was utterly delicious, you couldn’t let anything get in the way of your romance. Isabela might consider these kinds of tactics cheating, but you’re just doing what any other woman would do: trying to find ways to please your man. And you had been sure that your work was about to pay off. You had crossed your arms and cutely huffed the way he was “instructed” to like, had worn his favorite color robes, and had even listened to his slave sob stories. Ugh. Yet he still resisted you!

Looks like it’s time to step things up a notch.

Uncorking the phial, you slowly focus all of your energy onto the blood inside. Just as you do each time you visit the Fade, you coax the remainder of the liquid’s essence to life. You feel the blood begin to pulse, its beat growing stronger and faster with each moment. At the peak of its crescendo, the excited energy pierces through the Veil and across the Fade to reconnect with its owner. At first the connection is faint and tenuous. Then it solidifies into a link as strong as any chain. You metaphysically test the invisible leash and you’re aware that somewhere Fenris’ hand spasms in response.

Blood magic is so nifty! Why hadn’t you picked up the art sooner?

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

At night, Kirkwall reminds Fenris a lot of Tevinter. The high walls of the fortress cast shadows over the cobblestones, concealing any number of robbers or slavers. Normally he would happily slaughter the bastards, but tonight he’s occupied with the invisible hammer that’s pulverizing his skull.

_That damn mage._

Somehow he knows that this is her fault. The stream of bile that constantly flows out of her mouth must be toxic. Or maybe this is his brain rejecting the memory of the infuriating encounter. Either way, experience has shown that the faster he got away from that abomination, the quicker this torture would end. Already, the crushing blows to his temple are fading to a dull throb. As he ascends the stairs into his part of Hightown he cannot help but wonder why he even bothered to go see Hawke. Clearly someone, whether it’s Andraste or some Fade spirit, is sending a (painful) warning that she’s trouble.

Yet even now, that feral grin haunts him. A shiver slides down his spine at the thought. How many times had that smile been the last thing a man saw before he met the Maker? How many times had his dreams been plagued by that face? He clenches his talons and practically rips off the door to his mansion. Storming down the maze of halls and preserved corpses, memories of her striking down these very bodies encroach on his thoughts. The image of her blood-spattered face, grinning with glee, lingers in his mind’s eye.

A gauntleted fist connects with the stone wall, leaving a crack and a trail of blood.

Time and time again he has sworn to himself that he would kill her. She is a mage! And a cruel, twisted, hypocritical one at that. She’s happily slaughtered hundreds, and then had the nerve to protest when he killed that bitch Hadriana? The only thing that had stopped him from wringing her neck then and there had been the start of this cursed headache. Meanwhile she had just stared back at him with that damn grin of hers. But he is home now, or a place resembling a home. It’s not much, but at least it’s away from her. One or seven bottles of the Aggregio and he will forget about the whole dreadful incide –

A thunderbolt of pain cracks through Fenris’ skull, making him see spots and the blood rush in his ears. The lyrium tattoos sear into his skin like hot irons and Fenris is sure his body is on fire. The blood is practically boiling in his veins! His grip on the wine bottle becomes vice-like, and it shatters into a shower of glass. Fastevas, let this torture end! As abruptly as the pain had come it is gone, replaced by a heavy lethargy. Fenris could have collapsed with exhaustion and relief, but some force keeps him upright.

Then the numbness comes.

It snakes its way up Fenris’ calves, skitters over his chest and trails down his arms until he is a limp bundle of numb nerves. What the hell is going on? Somewhere, an invisible line jerks and Fenris’ left hand contorts as if shocked. Another tug and suddenly a leg springs to life. To its owner’s horror, it flails forward, awkwardly followed by its twin. And then Fenris is moving. Desperately he tries to cease his motion, to no avail. Even the numbness has faded so that Fenris cannot sense a thing, let alone move a muscle. He can only spectate as his body leaves the room and retraces its steps back out into Hightown.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Hidden outside the Hawke Estate, you watch your pet elf stride inside. You happily observe that his body is walking quite smoothly. What a good boy. You knew he would adjust well to your influence. He is so delightfully obedient after all. No wonder Danarius didn’t want to give him up. “Finder’s keepeeeerrrrs” you sing-song, and with a spring in your step you head towards the mansion’s entrance.

As you enter, your eyes fall on the figure of your love, which is strewn on one of the marble benches. At the sound of your footsteps, he stumbles up (hmm, looks like his body isn’t fully adjusted after all) and in two steps he is in front of you.

“ I have been thinking of you,” he growls, “In fact I have been able to think of little else”. Oh the lines you gave him sound so perfect coming from his lips! You almost you claim him right then, but you have to hear the last bit first. It’s your favorite part!

“Command me to go, and I shall.” At that, his eyes lock with yours and you can see the flames of hatred burning in their emerald depths. Oh how you love him when he is angry.

“No need,” you sneer.Holding his gaze you palm the blood phial and yank his leash. Hard. Like a marionette he responds, closing the distance between your bodies. You pull in your beloved’s face for a kiss, you could not be happier.

Finally he is yours.

**Author's Note:**

> This is the first fic I've written. I hope it was to your liking!


End file.
